.-

The large, milk colored moon consoled Irada, while her children, the small stars surrounding it sat still, giggling quietly among themselves.

"When will I leave? Where should I go? How…how will I survive?" Irada's voice could barely be heard against the howling wind. But the moon had heard her, it responded.

"B-but that's impossible! No one has ever made it through the Ashlands."

The giggling and wind ceased. The moon started to vanish behind a wandering cloud. Once again, Irada was alone.

She slept that night in the field behind the barn, where she had been talking with the moon earlier that evening. The dry grass pricked her delicate skin while she slept, but it was better than sleeping on the hard wood of the barn rafters.

Of course Irada had not talked with the moon. But she found it comforting, to have something larger than herself to talk too. Whether it could talk back to her or not.

"I will leave at noon," she whispered to herself, before closing her eyes.

-…-

Irada had packed all her belongings the night before. She had finished all her chores before her father had woken up. If she were to leave soon she would have to locate her father, for she could not be seen leaving the village.

All attempts of finding her father were in vain, for he could not be found around the house or village. Many hours had passed since the noon meal; the sun was starting to set, revealing to Irada the moon, her oldest and truest friend.

A deep sigh escaped her contracting lungs. She would leave, death by her father's hands would be better than spending years of torment and torture. Here I go…

Irada readjusted her pack over her shoulder before setting off in the direction of Tureos's rusty gates. She sneaked past crowds of men with an unnatural grace. The shadows belonged to her; she could do anything with them. It was at that moment that she felt powerful, it was the first time Irada felt an unknown strength flood through her veins. On she pushed herself, ducking every time she saw a drunk, making sure to keep her steps light.

Her destination was in sight; the rusted gates were swung wide open. Only two vicious, foaming figures stood in her way.

A guard, and his dog.

A dull thud was heard in the depths of Irada's chest. Her heart sunk as she watched the jerky movements of the man as he paced in front of the gates. How am I to pass him now? Irada's eyes scanned for a way to escape. There had to be a possible solution, one that would not involve much commotion.

Irada removed her leather pack from her shoulder, trying to be as quiet as possible. What she did next would be crucial, if this did not work she would surely die. One…two…three…

She waited until the man and dog were both looking in the opposite direction. Once she saw their heads turn, she threw a package of wrapped meat. Almost immediately the dog ran after it, loping past in an uncoordinated manner. "Come here! Rotten, stupid…" The man ran after the beast, dropping his rum while he did.

Like an arrow, Irada shot out of the shadows, running towards the gates, towards her freedom. "Argh!" her arm had been stabbed by the rusty spears positioned on the top of the gate. Warm blood started to trickle down her arm as she continued to climb. Almost there, you're almost there. The moon seemed to whisper as she thrust her leg over. She fell on the other side, the wind knocked out of her.

"Hey! You there, get up!"

Irada jumped up, clutching her injured arm. She knew that voice, it had been yelling at her all her life. Her father knew she was going to escape, he had been waiting for her.

"No, stay away from me," Irada whispered harshly. She turned and started to run, to her surprise her father did not keep up the chase, not that the plump man would have been able to. But he didn't even go through the trouble to send dogs. He didn't care, not at all.

Run my child, the shadows are yours.

Irada kept running, stopping for nothing, not even to nurse her injured arm. The cloak she had bought swept around her frail body like a massive shadow. A black wave of darkness sent to protect Irada from the moon goddess herself.

Through the cold and dense forest Irada ran. Her feet made almost no sound as she darted from shadow to shadow, her dark hair gleamed silver as the moon beamed down on her.

-…-

Stop now, rest and then run again when the sky is dark.

Irada did as the moon told her. She collapsed on the forest's leaf-covered ground. She wrapped her cloak tightly around herself, clutching her pack. And then, slowly, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.